


Hogwarts

by Minne_My



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 1998), The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Best Friends, F/F, Fancy Dress, Femslash, Gen, Harry Potter themed party, Witches, halloween party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23632777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minne_My/pseuds/Minne_My
Summary: The Hardbroom cousins & the Cackle cousins have been invited to a Harry Potter themed party
Relationships: Ada Cackle/Hecate Hardbroom, Amelia Cackle & Constance Hardbroom
Kudos: 12





	Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> Amelia Cackle: Slytherin (crafty)  
> Constance Hardbroom: Griffindor (brave)  
> Ada Cackle: Hufflepuff (kind)  
> Hecate Hardbroom: Ravenclaw (studious)
> 
> They think it's all a load of non magical crap but they'll deal with it for a novelty night

‘Halloween is not a time for merriment and frolics’ she snapped. ‘I absolutely will not be joining you in this horseplay.’

Famous last words.

Amelia had graciously given her the most exalted character and taken the most villainous costume for herself.

‘Ridiculous’ Constance huffed as she adjusted her sword. ‘All this non magical influence is a step too far. Really!’

Her drinking companion grimaced in agreement. Clutching mugs of what appeared to be mulled wine (left over from last Christmas and the wizards were too cheap to shell out for something more appropriate), they looked around the room in defeat. A Harry Potter themed party! It really was too much.

‘I’ve been told that the wizard reserved the most covetous costumes for us’ sighed her cousin. They were getting used to being a novelty, two Hardbrooms at a party. The Cackle cousins were getting more into the spirit. They were all staying at Amelia’s cottage for the weekend and getting ready for the party was an experience none of them would forget. Constance and Hecate had begrudgingly enjoyed the unfamiliar idiocy of scrambling around with one shoe on, buttoning up each other’s costumes and trying to avoid stumbling over each other’s props. They were walking to the party so pre-drinking had started in earnest. They were all in agreement that one must be drunk to pass the time at a wizard’s party.

Ada and Amelia were in the middle of the dancefloor, merrily mingling with people they’d not seen in a long time and generally being the life and soul of the party. The Hardbroom cousins didn’t thrive on being sociable, they thrived in quiet spaces where they could focus. But no matter how hard they protested and pleaded, they ended up capitulating to the one person in their lives that they would deign to do so.

‘At least you have a good reason to agree to this nonsense’ said Constance gloomily. Her cousin’s almighty crush on her headmistress had finally paid off and she was now blissfully wedded to the lovely woman in the canary yellow dress and cloak with the black badger brooch, teacup tied to her waist. Nobody was in doubt that sweet, kind Ada Cackle emanated the spirit of Helga Hufflepuff. She had rubbed some walnut dye into her hair for the weekend and looked rather fetching. Hecate only had eyes for her.

‘I bet Ada loves you in your tiara’ teased Constance.

‘I can’t believe you had one on hand. Going soft are you?’ Sneered Hecate icily, attempting to cover up her blush.

‘It’s not mine’ Constance snorted incredulously. ‘It was from the dressing up box. I just borrowed it. What do you think I’d need with a tiara?’

Nobody was ever going to let Constance forget the year she’d been roped into the pantomime as the fairy godmother. She’d been a stumbling panicking wreck but had managed to get through her routine in a pale pink tutu and tiara without falling off the stage. It was the only time a Hardbroom had ever looked clumsy. Amelia had, as always, convinced Constance that it was a good idea to do things out of her comfort zone. Using a school trip as holiday time for her to chill out and relax, allowing herself to be cast as a most unlikely role onstage, that kind of thing. Now she was dressed in a stupid red and gold outfit with her swishy curtain of hair released (well it was Halloween) with a sword, playing Godric Gryffindor and it was all her best friends’ fault. Bloody Amelia Cackle.

‘Is she channelling Agatha tonight?’

Constance shrugged.

‘Who knows? I think Salazar Slytherin was just the only one left. Who ever heard of an evil house anyway?’

Hecate nodded.

‘Non magical nonsense.’

‘It should be banned’ Constance stated.

They dwelled on the thought of the Cackle cousin who mercifully wasn’t there. She would have done her best to upstage everyone, steal all the best-looking people and spike the drinks with some sort of hallucinogenic.

‘Do you know she tried to touch me up several times?’

Constance narrowed her eyes at this.

‘I think you mentioned it. Horrid woman. Let’s hope there are still gulags in Sibera she could be thrown into. It’s what she deserves.’

‘Mind you, Amelia can do a good line in blackmail when she wants to. Could give Agatha a run for her money.’

They thought about how crafty she’d been in outwitting the school inspector. At that minute, the woman in question was laughing uproariously at something some nondescript wizard had said, handsomely attired in vivid green and silver, the pendant on her chest gleaming and her necktie knotted to show the tail and head of a serpent wound around her neck. She was one whiskey away from flirtation.

‘She’s one whiskey away from flirtation’ muttered Constance. Amelia was prone to that, she liked to work her way through the male population in that manner. That way she didn’t have to commit to anything while having some fun. She usually ended up snogging at least one by the end of the night. Constance made sure that her best friend got home safely. She remembered the time when they had been forced to stay in a pub to shelter from a storm and was accosted by a few burly sailors. Amelia had a few beers and had a great time being the life and soul of the party. Constance remained watchful and lurked on the peripheral, orange juice in hand. 

Neither of the Cackles were drinking leftover mulled wine. Ada had a martini glass of some sort of coffee liqueur. Hecate was looking forward to tasting a drop from her lips later. She adjusted her royal blue Rowena Ravenclaw costume, the tiara with the bronze eagle carefully pinned to her long lustrous waves like a crown. She looked radiant.

Constance fidgeted with the embroidered griffon emblazoned across her tunic. She looked grumpy.

‘Stop mooning over her, you’ve got her already.’

Hecate blushed but Constance’s slight smile held no malice. She was in the rare position of being the bodyguard of the group, the only one who never felt the yearning for desire. She’d listened to others wail out their relationship problems and dispensed advice accordingly, content on her perch on the side lines. She loved her chess tournaments, her lectures and the night outs with her friends. Her only companion to bed was her cat and she preferred it that way.

‘May I have this dance?’

Ada stood before them with a questioning smile. Constance took the mug from Hecate and downed it. Thus, being handsfree, Hecate took the offered hand and whirled away to start the dancing.

‘You look so beautiful’ Ada told her vision in blue. ‘I knew you’d fit this character. Perhaps I didn’t tell you that enough before.’

Hecate whispered her name gently in response as she looked down at the shy smile that greeted her. She really did love to study. Ada had got that right.

‘Come on Constance, you brave chap, let’s show these wizards what they’re incapable of doing’ bellowed Amelia, grabbing hold of her. Wizards were notoriously terrible at dancing. Everyone privately thought that Constance was extremely brave to keep a tipsy Amelia in check but it was all in a day’s work for her deputy.

‘Mind my sword’ she grumbled. Amelia minded the sword and away they went, spinning out onto the purple haze of the dancefloor.


End file.
